Laurelise
by FortReveuse20
Summary: In her mind of what others consider sociopathy and her world of human expidentures, one name, one person, and one chance, is all for even Justine to be affected. Rated T for the time being. Rating will change.


_**A/N:**_ Hello. A _Justine_ fanfic, yes, how adorable am I? But I've been around on the Internet as usual and came across this expansion pack to _Amnesia_. I've always been familiar with _Amnesia_, I just never had the guts to play or write a story about it. But I'm familiar with playthroughs and backstories like the palm of my hand.

So, some little tidbits; Justine in this story I am purposefully writing out of character. But by being OOC she is also IN character. You'll understand as the story goes on. I just feel writing about a significant event changing Justine's life would trigger a deeper side of her that even the game doesn't cover. She IS a sociopath, yeah, we can all agree on that. But my philosophical, analytical, psychological side is pulling through as the makers of _Justine_ purposefully left out tidbits. And I'm trying to shove in the missing pieces as my own interpretation of her inside and out. She is not my favorite character whatsoever; Alois Racine is. And take this as my personal favoritism if you'd like, but he is not as mangled or abused as he appears in the game. And why Justine does this you will soon see.

Disclaimer aside, I don't own the game yada yada. Enjoy, and this is a huge experiment for me so I would love to hear feedback (if anyone even reads these things). You enjoy.

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**Chapter 1: [August 16]**

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I had qualms with everyone in the estate today. There were things to do and everyone decided to be like mice and scurry off without my knowledge. Oh, but I shall find them and when I do Clarice will pay. Perhaps I should make a potion to remove any knowledge of their disobedience and make myself another test subject? No, they are my darlings. They don't deserve to see what wonders await my studies down below.

_Mon Dieu_, the house was a mess! No maids today! I was stuck doing it all myself. And in the heat, no less. I've hired more handmaids and butlers to assist Clarice. Oh what I do for that girl, at the price of what? Honestly, I'm not sure there will be anyone left in France to help me on my endeavors. But after this estate empties, it shall be full once more.

_Gustav, Jacques, Herbert, Clarice, and the two from Brennenburg: Klaus and Marta. _The clock ticked and ticked, like a tiny drum in my ear. There was no sign of anyone in the main level of the estate and my patience was running thin. Like a child I found myself tapping my nails impatiently on the table, accompanying the ticking of the clock. It was a symphony ringing in my ears. Then, the voices came. On and off the voices always came. I have grown used to it and, perhaps, they will stop haunting me.

The Cabinet didn't need any more attention today, and it was past dusk. I was running out of things to occupy my time with. I was restless, strained, and a little frustrated. I can't do it on my own and Clarice knows that!

Just in time, the door creaked open with rusty hinges. The wall seemed to crack more and more each time the front door would open and close. Through it came Clarice. The sigh of relief was maddening. I needed someone, something. The silence in the air rang through my ears like a rabid dog chasing my brain.

"You missed me, _mademoiselle_?" Clarice asked. She was confused.

My pride and existentialism grew deeper with each syllable. "I need something to _do_. You don't understand. It's past dusk. Where is everyone?"

Clarice immediately became apologetic. "Oh _mademoiselle_! _Desole_," she straightened up, "everyone has gone home." She stuttered with her words, hoping not to be let up in whatever dangerous anger I held. I read through every word, apology, or emotion she had to offer. And whether or not she noticed, I noticed. She could only assume with me, and she was nervous more than usual.

"There's plenty of room at the estate, they live under my wealth and protection now," I replied dully.

"W-Well…mademoiselle, you see…everyone just needs time with their families."

I didn't buy it. "Make it hasty, Clarice. I need people to occupy my estate. What was the real reason?"

Clarice merely stuttered and shrugged in reply. I could tell what she was thinking, and yes, it was my business to know of the occupants and their whereabouts. I don't need them somewhere they shouldn't be, or doing something they shouldn't be doing. Still, I could tell exactly who were the culprits and initiators of the residents leaving. And I wasn't happy about it.

I was about to reply, but Clarice was lucky that there was a knock on the door.

"_Hello! Mademoiselle Florbelle_!" A hefty voice called. It was unrecognized to me. Clarice hadn't made it five steps to the door and quickly turned around to open it.

The face I had acquired, but I had never heard him speak. My expression dropped even more than the blank look I must've had.

"_Bonjour_…Xavier Dubois," I greeted plainly. He had moved not too far from the estate, actually. I usually didn't pay any mind to have trivial interest in neighbors or who moved in nearby. But when I looked out a bedroom window on the third floor, I would often see him working in his garden.

The new house Monsieur Dubois had taken over had been abandoned the last twenty years. The occupants disappeared mysteriously without a trace; that was all I was permitted to know at the wrath of Father. The garden was nothing to be impressed with; black grass with dandelions, rigid ragweed, and sticks littered the fenced-in area. I could see it was a work in progress and he was doing the best he could with trying to make it whole again. What was dead was final, even he should know that.

His cheeriness was disturbing to me. He grinned like a madmen, lip and brow slightly beaded with sweat droplets from the brutal August air. He stuck out his hand and in it contained an envelope neatly wrapped with red ribbon. "For you!" He said, slightly out of breath and obviously eager to hand this to me.

I took it in my hands without giving him a glance. It was labeled "_Florbelle_" in neat cursive. The look on my face must have been puzzling enough.

"I was searching the house, convinced it was haunted and came across the study. It gave me some notes and clues in order to find letters like that, you see. They were meant for your father…is he home?" Xavier was speaking with such excitement and haste; I found it almost hard to follow.

I smiled at him politely and I could see his eyes light up. "Merci, M. Dubois. But my Father has passed on years ago. I will have to read this for hi—"

"—NO!" He cut me off, then straightened up his blouse and made a distinct 'ahem', "you are not meant to read that just of yet. Well, the notes I have found make it definite no one else but M. Florbelle is meant to read these."

"I'm convinced there are spirits in my house, mademoiselle. I can feel it in the air around me. I just hope they spare me. I'm just a baker and a gardener trying to earn a decent living!" Xavier shrugged into the air as if he were speaking to a crowd. "You probably don't believe me. No hard feelings."

I wasn't quite sure what to say. In all honestly, the man in front of me was slightly annoying, and talked with an abrupt manner as so to be exciting to me. Really, it's not. And I can already feel this one has no place in my Cabinet, or as a neighbor for that matter. Still, I mustered up what I could. Perhaps I am wrong and he could help me.

"I'm not quite sure what to say," I said honestly.

"I wouldn't expect you to. I'm a bit puzzled myself. Perhaps you could accompany me sometime to explore my house?" He asked. He took my hand and kissed it. "But only if you wish, mademoiselle. I would only like to clear up any confusion that may run through your mind."

Charming, and handsome. Ten years younger than me, I presumed, but not bad. A fourth suitor could suit me well. He will have to prove loyalty, and I will have to win his undivided trust. Still, the pure fact the man was merely doing this to please me and impress me with his house was now a fact old and boring. His personality was short of fascinating.

"_Merci_," I smiled. "Tomorrow, I will explore with you. If what you have told me is true, it will only confirm what I believe of the supernatural world as well. _Au revoir, monsieur_." He kissed my hand again and reciprocated the farewell. Clarice promptly closed the door and waited for my command.

"Clarice," I said firmly. "Get the occupants back in the house. I will be in my study. I have intense research and notes to make about our neighbor's inquiries. Do not disturb me and do not let _anyone_ disturb me."

"Oui, mademoiselle." I turned to leave for my work in The Cabinet of Perturbation.

"Oh, and Clarice?" I stopped.

"Oui?"

I turned around, as fierce and firm as I could. I made it very clear. "Next time those interns from Brennenburg decide to take _my_ occupants away from their duties, notify me first. And I will make note that there will be severe consequences." Clarice merely nodded, and said a quiet 'oui' before going off to her duties.


End file.
